Returned to the Fonda in the evening at ten o'clock, and found the two horses standing in the yard with nothing to eat, and a young Gaucho, who was to accompany me as postilion, lying on the ground asleep on his saddle. Next morning before day-break, got up, saddled my horse, and with my saddle as my bed, and some pistols and money, commenced my gallop for Buenos Ayres.

Country to be described—delightful feeling of independence at the mode of travelling—air frosty, and ground hard.—The sun rose, and shortly after got to the first post.—Had a letter for the lady from her husband who was at Mendoza—went to give it to her, while the Gaucho who was to accompany me was driving the horses into the corralfound the lady in bed.—“Siente se, Senor,” said she, pointing to an old chair which was at the head of the bed—sat down, and told her the letter was from her husband—she placed it under her pillow, and then offered me some maté, but I had no time to wait for it, and started.

At third post from Mendoza, the post-master, who might be exhibited in England as a curious specimen of an indolent man, to every thing I said, replied “si”—it was but an aspiration, and he seemed never to have said any other word—I had twice passed his house, and it was always the same Si!